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Lucerys clutched the wooden star in his hands.

Each point pricked lightly into his soft palms, and he became aware of the heat emanating from the candles, the heavy scent of wax and grease. He felt the hardness and unevenness of the floor beneath his knees and expected to feel, at some point, the weight of guilt.

He raised his gaze until his eyes met the Maiden's empty eyes. He supposed that whoever had carved her from that piece of marble had tried to give her a calm and kind face, though to him, she seemed tired, almost jaded, with her cold, half-closed eyelids and the corners of her lips slightly turned down.

He had been kneeling there for almost an hour, mechanically repeating in his mind the only prayer he knew:

Protect me, guide me, light my way.

The veil covering his head began to itch his temples and scalp. He felt each curl pressed against his skull, growing hotter and heavier. The clothing suffocated his body despite its shapelessness. Omegas who embraced the faith had to renounce vanity and the superficialities of existence. They concealed their bodies with gray or bone-colored linen robes that covered even their hair. Many took vows of silence.

They had tried to force him, but it was enough to threaten his own life for Queen Alicent to "decide" that it was not necessary to be so extreme.

Anyway, Lucerys had a good voice for being in a choir and saying his prayers...As if that would solve anything.

He sighed and stood up, feeling the pain of his numb muscles, then walked past the next statue and repeated the endless cycle. It was torture… quite well calculated.

***

The war had taken everything from him.

His fragmented family had been decimated to such an extent that the dynasty could have been lost forever were it not for a reluctantly decreed peace treaty in which Jacaerys ended up united by marriage with Aegon to preserve the continuation of the legacy and prevent any more dragons from being lost.

He remembered the misery reflected in his older brother's face. He had always looked up to him as a role model. He envied his strength, his courage… And he hated seeing him reduced to a bargaining chip. It was as if Jacaerys' veins had been opened and, instead of blood, his entire essence had drained away during the days he was imprisoned in the Red Keep.

Lucerys could only see him from afar on the wedding day, and the discomfort was such that he decided to leave before the banquet. He never understood how anyone could have a celebratory spirit in the face of such apathetic spectacle. Even Aegon didn't seem happy or satisfied with the decision. It was more than obvious that he hadn't been involved, despite never taking off his crown.

The omega swallowed, interrupting his fake prayer. There was the guilt. At least a little. It tasted bitter and tightened his stomach in an uncomfortable knot.

It wasn't the war. It was me.

***

The Warrior had a hostile and savage expression. Lucerys imagined what it would feel like to be pierced by his icy sword. He thought of the sensation of flesh and bone parting to accommodate the marble blade, the smell of warm blood, and the strange feeling of power that would linger in the weapon's hilt.

He saw himself on the night that started it all, when a fight between children escalated to almost destroy his family.

He lied when he said he didn't want to hurt Aemond. Under the stares of the adults around them, he had been forced to back down, to deny any ill intent toward his uncle. He admitted he was only trying to defend Jacaerys, that he hadn't thought clearly, but he never said he regretted it.

Tearing out Aemond's eye had given him pleasure. Would it be the same as what dogs felt when they bit the hands that hit them?

Alicent's demand for his eye as retribution filled him with terror. Lucerys thought he would be scarred that day, though tempers cooled quickly after Viserys and Rhaenyra's threats. There would be no more mutilations… But Lucerys had to make amends.

Nothing is more humiliating than asking for forgiveness and having it denied.

***

After finishing his prayers, he left the sept.

It was already getting dark, and he allowed himself to stay on the stairs to enjoy the last rays of sunshine before returning to lockdown.

Part of his punishment was imprisonment, though everyone insisted on calling it courtesy and privilege. Living in the Red Keep, locked in a room with no company, was worse than retiring to the convent with the other septas. Yes, they slept on straw cots and ate scraps, but at least they didn't have to endure the constant scrutiny of the court or be subjected to icy rejection. He was visible and invisible at the same time. An outcast regarded with pity and resentment, undeserving of forgiveness for his sins.

Sins. The first had been to hate so much as to hurt. The second was to love so much that it led to betrayal.

He descended the sept stairs to begin his journey back to the castle. A barely decent palanquin awaited him. The journey was always uncomfortable and painfully long. Lucerys knew that all of this was part of his curse. The price to pay for mutilating Aemond was to apologize. He had to do it until his uncle accepted. Lucerys lost count of the number of times he apologized. He did it reluctantly, furiously, resentfully. He constantly sought a moment, and the answer was always the same: “no.” This went on for so long that Lucerys simply gave up and chose to live with the unpaid debt. He stopped speaking to Aemond and returned to Dragonstone, not wanting to think about it anymore, focusing his attention on the tense atmosphere within his family.

Everything changed in the Baratheon hall when the debt demanded to be paid.

***

Upon arriving at the Red Keep, Lucerys thought for a second to be defiant and enter the castle through the gates used by guests and family members, a desperate attempt to find a way of exacting revenge, slowly creating trouble even though his actions would likely be seen as trivial matters unworthy of attention. He wasn't a threat, at least not to Alicent and the council. Without titles, without power, without autonomy… Lucerys was just like a twisted version of a jester. His rebelious idea wasn't worth the possible public humilliation and punishment that would come.

He entered through the same door as the servants, silent and with his head down as he followed the dark corridors, walking close to the wall to avoid being noticed.

Memories of his life as a prince flooded back to him; brief and bright, full of warmth. What had become of all his belongings? The fine, colorful clothes, the jewels his grandsire Corlys had given him… Had they been sold? Perhaps his pearly brushes belonged to another noble omega, and his books had ended up in some fireplace. That Lucerys had been violated, destroyed. And what remained of him…

When he reached the stairs that led to his confinement, he stood still for a few seconds. The steps spiraled upwards, disappearing into the darkness of the tower, and an icy current crept to his feet. Upstairs there was nothing but a bed, a table, and his ever-present copy of "The Seven-Pointed Star." He had never touched that book and never intended to. The leather cover was covered in dust.

Lucerys glanced to the right, then to the left, over his shoulder. No one was watching him. No one was following him. He walked past the steps and slipped into the shadows of another corridor.

In the darkness, it was difficult not to encounter one's own memories.

***

The end began with a storm. One that soaked him to the bone.

Lucerys tried to flee as soon as he saw Aemond in Lord Borros's hall. He felt the inevitability of a demand, and his mother hadn't sent him to Storm's End to fight. His only task was to request Borros Baratheon's support; however, the message wasn't delivered, and he simply retraced his steps.

At that moment, his pride mattered little to him. Instinct screamed that he had to take shelter, wait for the rain to clear. Vhagar's silhouette among the dark clouds was enough to freeze him in place. He was trapped in the courtyard of that fortress. Flying in that weather was a death sentence, especially since he had never done it before with such poor visibility.

Then, he felt the tip of the sword between his shoulder blades.

In the midst of his panic, it didn't occur to him that he wasn't just cornered, but that he was in the same place as his uncle. Lucerys swallowed hard. He knew he was at a clear disadvantage from the start. Aemond was a true alpha. That much had become clear during their last family dinner, when he felt Aemond's piercing gaze like an amethyst knife. The eyepatch was menacing, an ominous reminder of that savage moment when everything had shattered forever.

Lucerys turned slowly, trembling. The sword reflected a flash of lightning that echoed loudly. Aemond gripped the weapon firmly, raintears streaming down his pale face and tense shoulders. He hadn't put his eyepatch back on, so the sapphire that had taken its place in the socket shone as if it were alive.

It was a terrifying sight. One of the Stranger's many faces, Lucerys thought. Something inside him screamed and writhed, but he couldn't move. He was just prey.

"Jemela gēlyni enka (You have a debt)" Aemond's voice sent a chill down his spine. Lucerys could only watch him intently. What could he do?

A thousand options flahed through his mind: beg for his life on his knees, try to defend himself with his own sword even though he couldn't find the strength to move, run, call Arrax… But his throat was dry. Eternal seconds passed before Aemond lowered his sword. Even so, the omega remained still, cautious. He didn't even try to dry his face, despite his blurred vision and the fact that his hair clung to his cheeks and forehead like seaweed.

"I've spent years thinking about this moment," Aemond said, gripping the pommel of his sword. "Longing for the chance to make you pay... the satisfaction of seeing you beg..."

"Killing me here is cowardly, even for you," Lucerys muttered, his voice choked with emotion. He flinched as Aemond moved closer and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the alpha grasp the collar of his doublet. He lost all feeling of the ground beneath his feet for a few seconds.

"Issa bē verdagon ao ānogrosa nehugon (In my dreams I make you bleed)" he hissed. Lucerys's nose was filled with the scent of leather, smoke, and steel. All Targaryen alphas smelled the same. "Cutting your throat and watching you die slowly is the least you deserve, bastard."

Lucerys squirmed slightly, struggling to free himself from his uncle's grip. He had always been bad at fighting. Jacaerys told him so constantly. Strength only came to him in desperate situations. He lacked natural skill. He was clumsy and whiny. Delicate. The only sharp object he could wield was an embroidery needle.

Shameful tears filled his eyes. Fear was unavoidable.

"Keligon pār se ossēnagon issa (Stop playing games and kill me then), " he blurted out. His voice trembled. If he was to die, he at least wanted some dignity in it. He didn't want his last words to be a plea. He wished he could have delivered his message to Lord Borros, so as not to leave that last promise to his mother unfulfilled. Aemond looked into his eyes. Lucerys saw every kind of emotion pass through the alpha's violet iris. That single eye that remained to reveal the deepest part of his being… Though he could never guess what he did.

Everything around him stopped the moment Aemond closed the distance between them to kiss him. He didn't have time to process the sensation before, moments later, he felt a blow to the side of his head and lost consciousness.

***

He woke up in an unfamiliar tower.

It was completely dry, and there were no signs of the storm outside. His head throbbed painfully, and it didn't take him long to realize he was trapped with no way to escape.

The only window in his prison was too small to attempt an escape route. He peered out and could see nothing but a dense forest stretching for miles. Where was he? In the Valley? The Reach? He cried out, and his voice echoed. No one came to save him.

He spent hours trying to open the heavy wooden door without success. He kicked, he punched… He even tried to pull the wooden planks off the floorboards, but only managed to hurt his fingers and exhaust himself. His voice grew hoarse screaming for help. He called out to Arrax, but there was no answer, until only muffled squeaks escaped his throat, sounds no one would hear.

Night was falling when Aemond appeared.

Lucerys looked at him from the corner where he had stood trembling and frightened. He was so tired and hungry that the surprise was only faintly reflected on his face.

"Your mother thinks you're dead," the alpha said, closing the door behind him. Lucerys frowned, confused. "I suppose that makes sense. It's been about two days. Borros probably told her what happened."

"Where am I?" the omega managed to ask. "What do you mean, two days?" he blurted out immediately afterward, when Aemond's words finally made sense to him and seemed utterly insane. He shook his head and tried to stand, but hunger and thirst made him stagger, and he sat back down on the ground.

"Almost three," Aemond replied curtly, taking a few steps closer. Lucerys noticed he had a satchel slung over his shoulder, from which he pulled out a glass bottle containing water, a couple of apples, and bread with cheese. "It's likely to all fall apart."

"You have to tell him I'm here. That I'm not dead," Lucerys replied, eyeing the food suspiciously despite the rumbling of his stomach.

"The whole family believes I killed you," Aemond said, crouching down beside him. "I'd lose my head if I even went near Dragonstone right now. I can't imagine what Rhaenyra's thinking of doing."

"My mother isn't a monster." Lucerys' jaw tightened, his brow furrowing in his expression. "And you're a coward. You always have been. Take me back..."

"No."

The refusal was simple but firm. Lucerys was astonihed by Aemond's composure, who cut a slice of apple and offered it to him as if they were on an ordinary picnic. War was breathing down their necks because of this senseless act, and the alpha seemed to feel no urgency to rectify the mistake.

"What?"

Aemond finished eating the apple slice, chewing slowly. He gazed at the dagger he had used to cut the fruit and finally plunged it into the ground before looking Lucerys in the eyes once more.

"This is the only way" he said. Lucerys found himself backing away until his back was completely pressed against the wall. "Bisa iksos se mērī ñuhoso naejot emagon ao (This is the only way to have you.)"

The words hung in the air for a few seconds. The day finally died, and in the darkness, Lucerys could only half-make out the alpha's silhouette. None of it made sense. Was it some kind of twisted torture? Did Aemond want war? This stupid kidnapping was only going to bring misfortune. The seriousness with which his uncle spoke seemed so out of place that Lucerys began to laugh, choked by nerves, not knowing what else to do.

Hia laughter was far from joy or mockery. He couldn't control it. It was like when he laughed involuntarily at that dinner where everything started to fall apart, when the corners of his lips would turn up in uncomfortable smiles during serious moments. Jacaerys had hit him on the head hundreds of times when Lucerys would burst out laughing in the middle of a training session.

He covered his mouth with both hands and felt tears welling up in his eyes. Aemond said nothing.

"Our family is on the verge of disaster," Lucerys managed to stammer as the laughter gradually subsided. "And you-"

"War was always inevitable," Aemond interrupted. "There was always a divide between us, one drawn by your mother and mine. It was only a matter of time."

Silence fell between them once more, and finally Aemond stood up, startling Lucerys. The little light filtering through the window barely illuminated his profile.

"Don't leave me here," the omega pleaded, alarmed to see him walk away. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone about this confinement, Aemond, please." He thought he saw the shadow of a smile on his lips, though it could well have been a mere illusion caused by the darkness.

***

Rumors about the existence of secret passageways and tunnels running through the Red Keep were treated as just that: rumors. These passages never appeared on the castle plans, nor were they taught in his private lessons with the maesters. Lucerys learned to move between the walls by sheer force of habit, feeling like a scurrying rat at first until he simply came to see it as just another path… even as a refuge, away from the eyes and whispers that Alicent had scattered throughout the court.

He didn't need light either. His hand was firmly against the wall, and every texture was better memorized than any empty prayer they had forcibly tried to teach him when he took the habit. He walked cautiously but steadily until he finally felt the mark beneath his fingers, the one he should stop at. He gently pushed the stone and heard the hinges of the hidden door creak softly. He waited until it opened completely before plunging deeper into the darkness.

He counted his steps until he reached the foot of another set of stairs. Thirteen uneven stone steps which he climbed, and then, there was light again and he was greeted by an abandoned little room. The tiny window was open, letting the salty breeze from the Blackwater drift inside. The candle flames flickered, casting jagged shadows on the walls.

Lucerys sensed him even before he was aware of his presence. The firm arms encircling his body, the warmth of a longing embrace. The scent of leather, smoke, and steel…

Aemond cupped his face in both hands. The calluses on the alpha's fingers contrasted with the softness of his cheeks, and his single eye carefully scanned the omega's features, savoring the details that were seared into his memory. Everything tasted of nostalgia. He carefully removed Lucerys's veil, slowly revealing his dark curls until they once again framed his face. He did not fail to notice his weakened appearance.

"Ilon emagon umptan isse bona (We should have stayed in the tower) "he murmured, pressing his forehead against the omega's and closing his eye momentarily. He inhaled deeply and couldn't help but wince when he noticed the unpleasant smell of candles and bleach lingering on Lucerys's skin.

"You always say the same thing."

Remembering the tower always filled him with conflict… It had been both his prison and his refuge. Lucerys thought of it with a mixture of hatred and nostalgia. He found it difficult to imagine what his life would have been like without that brief period of confinement.

He placed both hands on Aemond's chest, caressing with her fingertips the golden emblems that decorated each brooch holding the white cloak in place. It seemed like the beginning of a bad joke.

A kingsguard and a septa lock themselves in a dark room…

He sighed and then set about removing the armor little by little, but skillfully. He had perfected his technique after so much time, and sometimes, during the endless lectures he endured in his routine, he liked to imagine in as much detail as possible each step until he could freely access Aemond's body. When he dropped the last piece of metal, Lucerys took the alpha's hands again and guided them to the straps that held the robe to his body. He looked him in the eyes.

"Vūjigon issa (Kiss me)."

***

Lucerys first heard about the war plans one afternoon when Aemond had arrived at the tower with a bottle of wine and a bunch of torn-up lemon cakes in his usual satchel. He'd been locked up for a week and finally concluded that the alpha wouldn't bother kidnapping him only to poison him. He took a half-eaten pastry and put it in his mouth.

"It was your mother who was supposed to go to Storm's End to speak with Borros," Aemond said as he uncorked the wine. "Why did you volunteer?"

“I’m a prince. I have responsibilities,” Lucerys replied, choosing a candied lemon from the crumbs. “I want… I wanted to make her proud. I wanted my mother to know that she could trust me like she trusts Jace…” He paused briefly. “Is he alright…? My brother.”

"He must have returned from the north by now," murmured the alpha, pouring wine into a pair of copper goblets. "From what I know, it was a very fruitful journey. They secured the support of the North."

"Lord Stark has always supported my mother's claim," Lucerys said, receiving one of the goblets. He couldn't resist sniffing its contents before taking a sip.

“The new Lord Stark prioritized his people,” Aemond explained. “Rhaenyra was clever. She offered your brother to lord Cregan on a silver platter. Stark already has a son who can take his place when it’s his turn to ascend the throne as Jacaerys' consort. If that ever happens, of course.” Lucerys looked at him with a mixture of confusion and slight offense. “Well. I’m giving Rhaenyra too much recognition for that plan. It sounds more like a Daemon scheme… or Corlys’s.”

"That is…"

“Desperate measures, I suppose,” Aemond shrugged. “Having Stark on the throne will only fuel the idea of independence in the North… and many others will want to follow suit. It’s losing territory.” He narrowed his eyes for a few seconds, weighing his words, his thoughts. Lucerys understood that he wasn’t really talking to him… but thinking aloud. “They hope Cregan will die in battle, I imagine. So the betrothal can be cleanly annulled…”

Lucerys had to admit that this kind of trickery could easily have been planned by Daemon and his grandsire. He grimaced in discomfort and decided to drink more wine.

"Rhaenyra didn't want you to go to Storm's End," the alpha's voice sounded sincere. There was a touch of regret in his words. "But you... it's hard to deny you anything..."

"Why wouldn't I want to go? I only had a message to deliver. If it weren't for you…"

"Your mother wanted to talk to lord Baratheon so that he would respect his father's oath," Aemond interrupted. "Daemon proposed offering your hand in marriage."

Lucerys blinked a couple of times, confused. He even felt his throat go dry.

"What?"

“It’s a known fact that male omegas only give birth to sons,” the alpha raised an eyebrow, as if stating the obvious. Lucerys blushed slightly. Talking about such things had always felt embarrassing. “And Borros Baratheon only has daughters. My mother wanted me to marry his eldest: Cassandra… That’s why I was there. Then you appeared.”

The omega shook his head. He placed the goblet on the floor, frowning.

"You're lying."

"I wouldn't commit treason over a lie."

Lucerys frowned even more, knowing that what Aemond said was logical to a certain extent. The act of kidnapping him was a crime and, after the war, a blatant betrayal of his family. If Aemond intended to use him as a hostage, he would have taken him directly to the capital, before Aegon and Alicent.

"Why are you doing this then?" he asked, looking up from the floor at the alpha. Aemond was silent for a few seconds, then shrugged. He picked up his goblet and took a long sip of wine. Lucerys thought he wouldn't get an answer until finally his uncle sighed.

“When you gouged out my eye… You became the focus of my nightmares,” he murmured. “I felt a mixture of fear and resentment every time your face popped into my mind. I suppose that, and the distance, convinced me I had to do something about it… Though Aegon and my mother had a lot to do with it.” Aemond took one of the remaining candied lemons and held it up to his eye to examine it in the dim light from the window. “Imagine the taunts for letting a bastard mutilate me with impunity… The scornful comments, my mother’s rage… That kind of thing gets under your skin. Accepting your apology meant giving in, losing what was left of my childhood pride. And I have to admit, having you begging behind me was amusing. I came to understand why they found it so funny to bother me back then.” He gestured and snorted a very short laugh before continuing. “It was convenient to hate you because I didn’t have to see you. You were a concept. An idea in my head. Imagining hurting you replaced the nightmares… Until you laughed that night."

Lucerys swallowed hard. The dinner where everything had gone wrong. When the separation became final…

"It wasn't on purpose," Lucerys excused himself, shaking his head. "I felt uncomfortable. I can't control it. I laughed because I was nervous, not at you."

"You never do anything on purpose, do you?" Aemond bent the lemon until it split between his fingers. "Mutilating me, laughing at me... Getting inside my head..." He shook his head. "I don't think there's any way to make you understand my motives, Lucerys. I don't even fully understand them myself. It's confusing and contradictory, but being in front of you makes me act like a fool."

"I highly doubt that's my fault."

Aemond looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He seemed to be seriously questioning his decisions. Lucerys pressed his lips together, regretting not thinking a little more before speaking, though not the insult itself. It was the least Aemond deserved.

“I should have killed you in Lord Borros’s courtyard,” the alpha concluded, though he looked dissatisfied with the idea. “But when I had the chance… I couldn’t stop thinking how much I hated the idea of seeing you in someone else’s hands. Even more than I hate you… I hated you …” The omega, stunned, didn’t move. Was this… some kind of confession? Twisted, slightly insulting… Somehow, it didn’t seem out of place to him that Aemond was able to turn something supposedly pleasant into a confusing and uncomfortable situation. “At the time, it seemed logical to do what I did.”

"Kiss me without my permission and hit me?"

"Saving you from a marriage that would have made you unhappy."

Lucerys had to cover his lips because another laugh threatened to escape, and the last thing he wanted was to provoke the alpha, who already looked exasperated. It was as if he were angry with himself for his actions. It didn't take much thought to realize that Aemond didn't fully understand his words either.

Nor could Lucerys complain, really. The thought of marrying Borros Baratheon filled him with the same anguish as when his grandsire named him heir to Driftmark, placing the weight of responsibilities that kept him awake at night… responsibilities he could never refuse. He sighed, letting his shoulders, which he had kept tense throughout the conversation, slump.

“Every day that I lie to come here, I do it with the intention of letting you go,” Aemond confessed without looking at Lucerys. “But when I see you… When I think of the consequences… I feel the same terror I felt the night I lost my eye. The fear of never being able to see again… never being able… to see you again.”

Aemond spoke as if those feelings had been growing inside him for years. He didn't sound like the alphas who constantly expressed their sudden interest in him. Lucerys knew the superficiality of those feelings. His uncle, however, seemed conflicted, tormented by the idea of feeling anything at all. Finally, he remembered all those times when there had been closeness between the two of them. Before the mockery, before the spite.

Wasn't Aemond the one who always waited for him when Jacaerys and Aegon left him behind? Wasn't he the one who helped him understand the complicated Valyrian reading lessons? It was Aemond who kept coming back to stand by his side, letting Aegon say hurtful things just so Lucerys could laugh. The same Aemond who never actually hit him in training… not even when Criston Cole pushed him. The most he'd ever done was give him a shove.

Lucerys hugged his knees to his chest.

"I understand you're scared," Aemond said, finishing the last of his wine before standing up. "And... I guess I'm a coward after all. I didn't mean to play the hero."

"Are you leaving?" The question came out with a distressed tone that even surprised Lucerys. The omega clumsily got up from the floor. "You can't just... tell me all this and leave. What do you want me to do?"

"You can go," Aemond shrugged. "Go back to Dragonstone, tell your mother everything. Mock me one last time. She'll want my head, but I warn you, I won't stop fighting. Without you here, I can focus on becoming what Aegon wants me to be."

"You just told me that you want to betray him."

"Because of you," the alpha clarified, as if it were obvious. "It turns out you're my only weakness, Lucerys. Ever since we were kids. Even though I hate and resent you... Even though I don't believe in what you stand for..."

For the first time, Lucerys felt a twinge of doubt. Or rather… a crack through which light seeped into the thick fog that was his existence as a prince.

Despair overwhelmed him. He had longed to return home, and the door was finally open. But returning meant resuming his responsibilities. Being an heir, committing himself to the good of the crown. Surrendering because he had to… forgetting his feelings, his identity…

He began to have trouble breathing.

He took a step toward the exit, but in the end, he looked for Aemond for the first time, extending his arms in his direction, embracing the possibility of freedom.

Embracing betrayal.

***

Lucerys couldn't quite remember when the last time he had been able to feel Aemond's skin against his freely was.

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure up the tower, its tiny window, and the wooden planks on the floor. He thought of the straw-stuffed cot, his cloak and Aemond's, which served as blankets to cushion the friction of their naked bodies against the rough materials.

He sighed, curling his eyebrows, and squeezed the alpha's arms a little tighter, wishing he could reach through the fabric of his shirt to touch him, to feel him… The robe no longer covered his shoulders, thanks to the Seven, but he couldn't afford to be naked. They had to be ready to slip away if they heard any noise. Being caught breaking their vows meant certain death.

When the war had taken too much from both sides, Rhaenyra decided to end the conflict. When she nearly lost Jace in the Gullet, she simply knew it wasn't worth being left with nothing, so she and Alicent reached a mutual agreement: Aegon would be next in line to the throne through his marriage to Jacaerys. Still wounded by his burns, the maesters deemed the alpha fit to father children, so the union could be consummated and produce heirs.

After the pact, Aemond returned to the capital with Lucerys, certain that the worst was over… However, justice demanded payment for insolence and insubordination. Rhaenyra could find no way to spare her son from punishment in order to maintain the fragile peace that had just been establihed.

Both princes were stripped of their titles and forbidden from having any kind of relationship, as it was the temptation of the flesh that had driven them to betrayal. Rhaenyra made Aemond a member of the Kingsguard and Jacaerys' sworn protector.

Lucerys, on the other hand, had to take a vow of chastity and be baptized into the Faith of the Seven at Alicent's insistence. As a septa, his sole duty was to be present during sermons and wait for his brother to have children so he could teach them the kingdom's religion.

What would their mothers think if they saw them at that moment? What would Alicent do if she were there to watch Aemond fuck Lucerys against the wall like an animal in heat?

The omega parted his lips slightly to allow himself a soft moan.

Aemond squeezed him thighs tightly, imprinting the marks of his fingers on his smooth, delicate skin, where no one could see them. Lucerys pressed his legs even closer to the alpha's sides, savoring every moment of the savage thrusts that made him feel Aemond deep inside him. The long, deep kisses were punctuated by wet, vulgar sounds that Lucerys could neither suppress nor hide. His cunt dripped, throbbed, and sought the satisfaction of having Aemond to please him.

He missed the long hours the alpha spent pleasuring him with his tongue back in the tower,  where Lucerys discovered all the secrets of his body and lust. Together they experimented with different positions, caresses, kisses, and countless acts that would cost them their lives if they dared to replicate them.

"Vūjigon issa, issa jorrāelagon. Vūjigon issa ēva se hembar jēda (Kiss me, my love. Kiss me until next time…) " Aemond obeyed, tracing his lips along his lover's pale neck, kissing every mole and freckle he found along the way until he covered the available skin with his breath.

The penetrations deepened until, with husky moans and deep grunts, Lucerys felt Aemond come inside him, as always. He gasped, holding his breath as the knot formed, experiencing ecstasy at the same time as that mild, pleasurable, and familiar pain. Their lips met again and again. Aemond held him firmly, trying to prolong the moment as much as possible. He closed his one eye and pressed his forehead to the omega's.

"Aemond" Lucerys whispered. "I haven't bled yet."

That only provoked an ironic smile from the alpha.

"It was about time," he murmured in response. He looked into the omega's eyes, resting his face in the soft palms of his hands as the omega decided to caress his cheeks. "What is it you desire?"

Lucerys remained silent for a few seconds. He looked at Aemond intently and could only manage a small smile.

"You. Always."